Retro Review: Girl Through Glass

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

New York, summer of 1977. A young girl is accepted into the School of American Ballet and relishes the pressure it offers as an escape from her complicated family life. In the present day, a professor attempts to navigate her current life upon receiving a letter from the past.

I really liked this book. Here's why:

It was written carefully, as though every word was mulled over three times before being chosen. I think it really shows when an author puts so much effort into creating language that flows. It's impressive. It shows a commitment to the reader, and an appreciation for the aesthetics of a novel. 

It demonstrates consistent tone, sophisticated vocabulary, convincing imagery, reasonable characterizations, and a balanced plot. There's nothing more dissatisfying than a poorly-crafted story. Books can have interesting plots and boring characters, or fantastic writing and sloppy plot construction. Luckily, this book is well-balanced.

It sends a genuine message without being preachy. Somewhere between the lines there is a cautionary tale here. It's not obvious, it's not in your face (this is my interpretation - I'm sure others thought it openly glared). Yes, there is an agenda, but the author allows the story to speak for itself.

It captures a complicated aspect of life to which I can relate. I don't think it's a coincidence that Mira went into academia. Just because she stopped dancing doesn't mean she lost her quest for recognition, perfection, etc. The anxiety and effort that goes into being the best - there's nothing like it, and she went from one obsessive, competitive field to another. This book contains the most accurate portrayal of this type of competition that I've encountered. It's eerily correct in its descriptions.

This is not a happy book, but it's a fascinating one. It's dark and very thought-provoking.

Girl Through Glass on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Fellowship of the Ring

2019 CHALLENGE: 1 RE-READ PER MONTH 05 / 12

5 stars. Simply. Perfect. I don't think I can write a review of this. It's too challenging to communicate how lucky I feel visiting Middle Earth again.

Favorite moments:

1. The Black Rider sniffing for the ring. What a badass detail.

"The riding figure sat quite still with its head bowed, as if listening. From inside the hood came a noise as of someone sniffing to catch an elusive scent; the head turned from side to side of the road."

2. Tom Bombadil.

"He then told them many remarkable stories, sometimes half as if speaking to himself, sometimes looking at them suddenly with a bright blue eye under his deep brows. Often his voice would turn to song, and he would get out of his chair and dance about. He told them tales of bees and flowers, the ways of trees, and the strange creatures of the Forest, about the evil things and good things, things friendly and things unfriendly, cruel things and kind things, and secrets hidden under brambles."

3. Reading this and picturing the scariest movie moment of my childhood.

"To his distress and amazement he found that he was no longer looking at Bilbo; a shadow seemed to have fallen between them, and through it he found himself eyeing a little wrinkled creature with a hungry face and bony groping hands. He felt a desire to strike him."

4. Lothlorien.

“As soon as he set foot upon the far bank of Silverlode a strange feeling had come upon him, and it deepened as he walked on into the Naith: it seemed to him that he had stepped over a bridge of time into a corner of the Elder Days, and was now walking in a world that was no more. In Rivendell there was memory of ancient things; in Lórien the ancient things still lived on in the waking world. Evil had been seen and heard there, sorrow had been known; the Elves feared and distrusted the world outside: wolves were howling on the wood’s borders: but on the land of Lórien no shadow lay."

5. When Boromir tries to take the ring and it feels shocking and inevitable at the same time.

"‘Ah! The Ring!’ said Boromir, his eyes lighting. ‘The Ring! Is it not a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt for so small a thing?"

So good.

Per internet tradition, it seems that this book is a bit polarizing and people either love it or hate it (like ... to the death). I acknowledge that the writing is dull in places; that the black-and-white depiction of good versus evil is problematic; that there are sexist undertones; that the worldbuilding occasionally hurtles beyond playful into pretentious territory; etc etc. I recognize its flaws but feel as though its merits outweigh them.

All that stuff aside, I don't know what took me so long to pick up these books again. The escape offered here is of immeasurable value, to me. I want to crawl into the world of these words and curl up there forever.

The Fellowship of the Ring on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Maestra

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

5 stars. So, Maestra tells the story of Judith Rashleigh, art expert and expert murderess. She spends her days toiling away as a junior employee at an art house and her nights at a creepy hostess bar being paid to satisfy customers with her company. Upon discovering her shady boss’ shady fraud scheme, Judith goes on a rampage of sorts - a sweaty spree hopping from country to country leaving dead bodies and fake names in her wake. It’s wonderful and sneaky and fun. Maestra is zesty! It is zesty Italian with extra zing. The pace, the drama, the bloodshed, the sex - delightful - the most enjoyable reading experience I’ve had in a long time.

It certainly isn’t perfect; Judith displays some incredibly contradictory personality traits. It’s absolutely, one hundred percent unrealistic. It’s superficial. Still, there is strong writing in the “art parts,” which I found enjoyable and an interesting distraction from the somewhat rompy plot. 

Speaking of, I hope people weren’t too shocked. I didn’t find it that shocking, I just found it … open in ways other books aren’t. It’s constantly like, yeah, let’s go there, let’s open this door. I respect that. I admire it. It’s irresistible. I don’t know if it is feminist in the traditional sense of the word (though I hesitate to put parameters on that word), but it certainly expands upon a favorite topic of mine: complex, sexually aggressive women. More of that, please.

I can see the comparisons to Tom Ripley and Vicky Sharpe, but honestly, Judith feels like her own new thing. Is it wrong to say I relate to her? That I enjoyed watching her succeed? She channels that massive chip on her shoulder into getting exactly what she wants whatever the cost. It’s kind of impressive.

Maestra isn’t particularly profound, but it is profoundly entertaining. I can’t wait to read more, if for nothing else than the author’s expertise on a subject I love. Many individuals in the art world are - to quote a colleague of mine who spent years in the gallery business - “snooty,” and Hilton completely challenges that notion by creating a female character who is not only badass but also super, super emotionally into art. I loved it.

Maestra on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Carrie

5 stars. I can't believe it's taken me so long to read this King - out of all the Kings - but I'm making my way through his repertoire at a slow pace so I can savor his books. Obviously, Carrie is amazing, and I loved it. I read it in one day and the whole time I was just like, yup, classic.

Carrie, of course, is about a teenage girl named Carrie White (the names in this book are really interesting), struggling under the terrifying influence of her intensely religious mother. Bullied and basically ignorant, Carrie attempts to grow and navigate puberty while harboring a remarkable and powerful secret skill. After being targeted by a cruel plot, she goes on an explosive and bloody rampage marking the town forever.

I think it's fairly well-known that this was King's first published novel (the fourth he'd written), and it's full of hints of what's to come. (TBH, I was looking for the hints because I'm obsessed with patterns and recurring motifs.) He plays around with themes he'd continue to explore for the duration of his career; small towns, masculinity, femininity, obsession, religious mania, youth, innocence, sexual awakening, sexual repression, bullying, etc.; in a deft and experimental way that's frankly really genius.

It occurred to me, as I turned the pages of a scene in which a 16-year-old girl gets her period for the first time in a high school locker room and is immediately mocked and pelted with pads and tampons, that King took something very preposterous and made it seem very reasonable and realistic. His attempt to capture the female psyche is so vivid and painful - maybe not right, exactly, but it's very vivid.

Along those lines, I won't attempt to poke at some of the feminist and religious messages in Carrie, but I didn't read this looking for that sort of thing. Carrie is just plain weird, and fascinating, and fun, and funky, and disturbing. It doesn't go quite as deep or as wide as some of his others, but it's distinctly King-ish and worth a read.

I've written before about how reading King is kind of a magical experience: you're like WTF is going on, but you can't stop or look away, and finishing is hugely satisfying until you kind of sit back and think about it and go WTF did I just read?! But that's part of the charm and what makes him so impressive. It's why I keep coming back for more.

Carrie on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Fates and Furies

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

3 stars. Well, this book is certainly memorable. It certainly has a lot to say.

The writing is unusual and strange and even harsh at times. The characters don’t behave as expected. It’s unique - which sounds like a cop-out observation, but truly, it’s different. And it accurately represents, I think, how relationships are woven - often painfully - into the fabric of your identity. The characters are compellingly grotesque and each new chapter brings a new deep dive into their utter selfishness. It’s pretty fascinating.

But Fates and Furies is also … pretentious. It’s grandiose. The symbolism is heavy-handed and the story is weighed down. Purple prose? Perhaps. I’d describe it as try-hard. Listen, Shakespeare should be referenced. He should inform modern writing. But Groff simply wouldn't let me, as a reader, forget her knowledge of his works.

I feel like I should have a lot more to say about this book than I do. Fates and Furies is interesting and affecting to a certain degree. I’m eager to see how its studied in the future. There’s a lot to unpack and a lot to appreciate. But ultimately, for me, it’s only deserving of 3 stars.

Fates and Furies on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Invited

3 stars. This was, honestly, a bit adorable. I like Jennifer McMahon and I'll likely read everything she's written when I'm in the mood, but bless her heart. This is barely, barely horror. It's a great read with an interesting mystery and a satisfying twist - it just doesn't go very deep, or very wide. It's cute. It's light. It's refreshing.

The story starts in the 1920s, when a young single mother named Hattie Breckenridge is hanged for alleged witchcraft. In 2015, Helen and Nate decide to build their dream home on her property. Obviously, things get weird. Helen in particular feels a connection to the history of the land and starts investigating Hattie and her descendants. She becomes acquainted to a youngster in the area, Olive, who is dealing with the disappearance of her mother and has her own connection to Hattie. There are supernatural elements and creepy moments, but it's essentially a thriller.

I did like the creepy stuff: ghosts, seances, a bog, some crimes, the unsettling small town vibes. I liked the albeit superficial exploration of female rage. I enjoyed Helen's relationship with her husband and the way things came together at the end. Calling this "light" doesn't mean I'm calling it simple; there was thought put into the plotting and the characters. Things click into place. I also enjoyed the multiple POVs and the flashbacks - usually I don’t. McMahon is really fantastic and avoiding gimmicky narrative devices.

Two things I couldn't get my head around: the fact that two middle school teachers had the skillset, the strength, and the funds (inheritance or no inheritance) to build a house on their own, and the fact that Olive was supposed to be a mid-teen in high school. Olive seemed younger to me. Stephen King is my benchmark for young voices (he truly is the king!), and this felt a little cliche. And the author clearly did her research on house-building but ... sorry. Couldn't believe it.

I really hesitate to call things Beach Reads because WTF does that even mean? But I could see myself enjoying this with sand between my toes. It's easy entertainment with short chapters and a brisk pace. I'll never not read ghost stories like this; they scratch an itch. This one just didn't scratch very hard.

The Invited on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Lost Man

5 stars. This was GREAT, as expected. Jane Harper is becoming one of my must-read authors. If you enjoy quick, well-plotted, atmospheric mysteries (with a distinctly Australian flavor!), Harper's for you. 

This particular book is a low stakes mystery about a man who returns home - to a broken family in a town from which he was exiled - to deal with his brother's death. As he tries to reconcile and recover from the shock, he realizes he has to face some difficult truths about his past, his present, and his future. It's a story about human nature, denial, abuse, and resilience under harsh conditions. And it's incredibly enjoyable.

I think Aaron Falk is my favorite, so far, but I'm kind of embarrassed with how quickly and deeply I became invested in Nathan Bright's journey. I don't always agree with Harper's protagonists, but I almost always understand them. And her characters are all wonderfully distinct, with clever, strange voices and a hearty mix of good and evil in each. Even the dead ones, portrayed in flashbacks and observational comments, come across brilliantly.

It didn't hurt the book at all, but things wrapped up really neatly here. I actually found that to be quite nice, quite satisfying. I don't think this author is particularly worried about being unpredictable (though the twist was nice). Answers are good but a captivating quest to find them is better. Harper clearly trusts her readers and her writing is better for it.

I am personally in awe of Harper's ability to play with emotions, like shame and determination and forgiveness, and things like memory and intricate family dynamics. I also love the way she makes her setting a character - pushing, pulling, inspiring characters in interesting ways. She consistently paints a really vivid environmental picture; I had no trouble imagining the heat and the dust of the Outback. And she dives headfirst into some important issues here in striking and surprising ways. The way she portrays the nuances of rape and consent - breathtaking. I hope she never stops writing about quiet, complicated humans in complicated situations.

AWESOME BOOK.

The Lost Man on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Trial of Lizzie Borden

3 stars. What's fascinating about Lizzie Borden is that there's so much more to the nursery rhyme, but so few answers in the end. The grisly murders captured America's attention, and resulted in one of the fairest, most admirable trials in the history of the justice system. But the crime still, to this day, represents a strange, "locked room" mystery. Those of us starved for the truth will find the details presented here of great interest.

And there are many, many details. This reads like a textbook, and was therefore almost a DNF (I kept falling asleep on the train!); but truthfully I am quite interested in the courtroom drama of it all, and was satisfied by a rewarding finish. I had no idea that Lizzie's story had such a sparkling supportive cast - from the bumbling policemen, charismatic lawyers, thirsty spectators, admirable judges to, of course, the amusing crucial witnesses.

I was not previously aware (naively) of how deeply the sexism of the time permeated the proceedings - Lizzie essentially became, as many defendants do, a tennis ball being racketed back and forth by men trying to outsmart each other. Beyond that, however, I learned that her gender was used by BOTH SIDES to prove her innocence and/or guilt. She's a woman: they're dangerous, wily creatures who have committed the worst crimes in history (!!!) - GUILTY. She's a woman: they're weak, dumb, and don't have the strength to wield an ax (!!!) - NOT GUILTY. I found this to be hilarious and tragic and classic.

But justice prevailed - or did it? I found this book to completely prove that Lizzie is innocent from a legal perspective. Yup, that evidence was circumstantial AF. Yup, the police really screwed some stuff up there. Yup, the prosecution's arguments were underwhelming and desperate. But the justice system is imperfect because it's a human system, and I guess we'll never know what really happened that day in the Borden household.

I couldn't help but compare this to See What I Have Done, which I read fairly recently. I really appreciated Sarah Schmidt's attempt to draw a new picture of the Borden murders, but found it a little tryhard. Still, her sticky, dramatic portrayal of a guilty Lizzie starkly contrasts with the portrayal of an innocent Lizzie in The Trial. The Trial is extensively researched and draws from transcripts, newspaper articles, and more. The illustrations are useful and you really get a feel for what that hot courtroom felt like during the spectacle.

My favorite part was the end - a pithy, beautifully-written coda to an exhausting narrative. I loved reading about the various theories out there, and about the locked up, hidden away defense files. I loved reading about the rest of Lizzie's life, and about her love for Boston Terriers, and her refusal to leave Fall River. Ultimately, I'm into this. I'll always be into Lizzie.

The Trial of Lizzie Borden on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: In a Dark, Dark Wood

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

3 stars. I didn't really like this. I was seduced by the creepy title and the promise of a dark thriller but all I got was a basic story told in weird increments. It was mediocre and predictable and while it kept me turning pages I just really didn't care.

There were a lot of annoying things about this book but the biggest, for me, had to be the protagonist. I know others have commented on her here and I would agree that she's just damn ridiculous. Consuming a story of any kind requires suspension of belief, and I'm willing to suspend a lot if the action is enjoyable and satisfying in its own way. But I'm really unwilling to believe that a girl was so traumatized by a pretty typical (yeesh, that may be misguided - common? fairly common?) romantic experience that it dictated every action years later. My favorite phrase, used by a reviewer above, is "psychologically improbable." Yeah, that just about covers it.

And it's the plot, too - everything's so campy and melodramatic and twisty in a way that simply isn't creative. It wasn't dark enough, for me. I mean, I was super unsettled by the fact that she even went to the stupid bachelorette party in the first place, but I was unsettled in a "oh, this narrator is really fucking dumb," and "a bachelorette party? I'd rather put a campfire out with my face" sort of way.

I read an interview with Ruth Ware in which she described this book as a combination of Agatha Christie and the Scream movies. Cool! What a fabulous concept. And also an extremely admirable goal. I am into it! I just don't think she got there, though, with this one. Poor execution. I'd like to read some of her other books and try her again, though.

In a Dark, Dark Wood on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Interview with the Vampire

2019 CHALLENGE: 1 YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT YET?! PER MONTH 05 / 12

3 stars. This is a beautiful, classic vampire tale - very sensual, philosophical and romantic. It's not an effortless read, as the writing is substantial and dense. But it's compelling, in its own way, and gives life to some of the most intriguing, interesting characters in vampire literature. I tried to imagine reading this when it had first debuted - before mopey Brad Pitt - and it struck me how innocently Anne Rice employs the unexpected (the interview concept, a child vampire, a blatant homoerotic flavor) to keep you turning pages. It's pillowy and rock hard at the same time.

Interview with the Vampire is Louis' story: his early life as a mortal in New Orleans, his transition into vampire, the chaotic confusion that followed, and eventually, the unsteady awakening of his immortal identity. He describes in great detail his birth, his clumsy grasps for family (including the shallow, electric Lestat and the cold child vampire Claudia) and his startling and devastating encounter with others of his own kind. It's a bit of an epic, spanning decades and soaring from the tapestry of New Orleans to the sparkly light and deep darkness of Paris.

The central focus of this novel is Louis' internal struggle to reconcile who he is with what he is. He is seduced by Lestat and transformed with little knowledge of what he has become, leaving him with questions and infinite time to contemplate them. He believes killing to be the ultimate sin, and spends most of the novel trying to avoid it or hating himself for it. His conscience - his "passion" - is unique among vampires and they find his self-loathing both strange and attractive. He questions the nature of "evil" and its spiritual, or human, origins. I really enjoyed this exploration; a refreshingly slow take on vampire mythology.

That said, it's a bit ... emo. The way he talks is very melodramatic and a bit annoying - I wanted a break from it after awhile. Louis is straight-up sugar - too rich for me. I wanted more Lestat, more Armand, more Celeste, more PEPPER. And more gay stuff! I know the homoerotic tones are strong here, but they kept talking about love but "not physical love of course," to which I'm like [JOHN CENA VOICE] are you sure about that??! I know it gets less subtle as the series continues, which I applaud. 

So here we are, with the dreaded three stars. I liked it, I wasn't totally blown away, I sort of had to muscle my way through it despite its short length. I'm really into Anne Rice though, I love her rock opera way of writing. That's reflected in the movie adaptation, I think, along with the heavy angst (hence mopey Pitt). Ultimately I'm thrilled to have read this for my reading challenge because it was a MUST. READ. I loved reading it so soon after Dracula. I hope it continues to carve its own pathways within the vampire canon.

Interview with the Vampire on: Amazon | Goodreads